Elodie Has College On Lockdown (Except for the Showers, and the Sinus Infection.)

I have this theory that you can get used to anything. For instance, there was a brief period in my childhood where my dog had to wear diapers. I kid you not. You can imagine the hilarity—the potential for jokes was virtually limitless. Before long, however, seeing my dog prance around in Pampers seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Friends would come over, do a double take, and say incredulously, “Your… your dog wears a diaper?” And I would just be like, “Yeah, doesn’t yours?”

Similarly, after schlepping through a few weeks, I’ve decided you can get used to college and everything that comes along with it.

Showers: I’m convinced shaving your legs in these showers is much like being a Samurai—it takes months (if not years) of training and practice before you can boast a satisfactory skill level. Right now I’m teetering somewhere between “I just banged my head against the wall” and “I suck at this, plain and simple.”

Morning Classes: There are girls that stroll into class looking ah-mazing, while I consistently crawl in at the last second sporting that just-rolled-out-of-bed look. I don’t know how they do it. (I certainly know how not to do it.)

French: French class consumes my life. It’s an immersion program, so I have begun to think in disjointed, badly phrased French. Sometimes I let a “merci” slip out when I’m ordering lunch. Three times a week I have to eat with my class, too, and there are several kinds of tables: the Table with the Really Strict Teacher Who Insists Everybody Speak Nothing But Perfect French, the Table That Lucks Out and Doesn’t Get a Teacher So Everyone Speaks in Whispered English, the Completely Silent Table, the Table Where No One Has Any Food, the Table Where Everyone Has Too Much Food, and the Fun Table (where everyone somehow manages to have the time of their lives, and the rest of us get to watch forlornly from across the cafeteria).

Getting Sick: Having a cold when you’re confined to a dorm room built for approximately half a person is excruciating. I sniffled nonstop. I blew my nose like I was getting paid for it. I was actually 99% sure it wasn’t a cold but cancer of at least nine different organs that would eventually lead to my untimely death. (I watch too much House.)

BathroomsConversations: Bathroom conversations are always awkward. Even if you think they aren’t, they are. Even if you’re positive they aren’t, there will always be a little undercurrent of discomfort coursing through the rivers of your conversation.

Friends: I don’t yet have that close-knit, disturbingly-at-ease-with-each-other group of friends that I had in high school. But today some girls (Tish, Blair, and I) saw that Tish’s roommate Marie was swiping cards in the cafeteria, and we proceeded to shout joyful nonsense at her, so I think I’m on the right track.

Boys: Finally, the juicy stuff! In high school, it felt like eligible boys were such a scarce breed that the masses pounced whenever a cute one made an appearance. Here at college, there are cute boys coming out the wazoo. There’s one right across the hall from me playing a ukulele as I type this. I’ve done laundry with Quentin twice (purely coincidental—I frantically tried to stuff my bras out of sight), I dine with Hart regularly (he’s cute, and he likes books and video games, which is like my perfect man), and Calvin? Let’s talk about Calvin. We bonded at orientation, but it’s just one of those things where you get to know somebody and suddenly they lose that sense of je ne sais quoi. I have class with him, I see him almost daily in the dining hall, and… I don’t know. It’s like Liam. You all know Liam. He’s my best dude friend, but I’d never date him because he’s a Facebook friend whore and he’s inconsistent and he’s annoying and he’s a huge jerk, but I love him to death anyway… just not in a “let’s mash faces” way. It’s like that. Calvin’s a little self-absorbed, and he loves to use big words and hear himself talk. These aren’t, like, automatic disqualifications for dating material. God knows I say "tangential" whenever I can. At this stage of the game, I’m not writing him off. I’m just not actively pursuing him. We’re breakfast buddies, and I’m good with that right now. Anyway… did I tell you about Hart? I did, right? He’s cute, and he eats his spaghetti without sauce for some reason, and he invited me to this group movie deal he had going on in his room (I had to decline, because I had that wicked cold and I thought I was dying, but still).

Famous People: You hear about people who went to University of Michigan—the entire cast of A Very Potter Musical, for instance. There was a girl who looked SO MUCH like Lauren Lopez (Draco Malfoy) that I actually asked if they were related. This happened at the French lunch table, so the question was really difficult to articulate. (They aren't related, in case you were wondering. Or at least I think that’s what she said. She threw together something really long in French and it didn’t lend itself well to my English ears).

Anyway, I’ve gotta jet; I have a MASSIVE essay due tomorrow, so I’m dining on microwavable Mac & Cheese, bottled water, and a Snickers bar I got from the vending machine. Ah, college.

Did anybody else snort scalding coffee out their nose while reading this post? We now have third-degree nostril burns. How are your first few weeks of college breaking down—are you in the same boat as Elodie?

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About the Author

Writer. College student. Good at losing her keys, eating breakfast sandwiches, and holding lifelong grudges. She realizes none of these things will help her survive a zombie apocalypse, and she’s made her peace with that. You can follow her on Twitter @elleohdee, but it’s just going to be a lot of complaining.